


Scars Like Train Tracks

by wibblyR



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: (in addition to the non-con), Abuse of Power, Extremely Dubious Consent, Former Sex Slave!Bucky, HYDRA Trash Party, Kinda, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2239743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibblyR/pseuds/wibblyR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"One day, Steve says 'Let’s unwind'- and Bucky’s eyes go dead and he falls to his knees. Steve trembles."</p><p>Also known as : Absolute Trash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars Like Train Tracks

**Author's Note:**

> Written in april 2014 for [Tania](http://octopifer.tumblr.com).  
> Title from "Little Beast" by Richard Siken.  
> I'm really sorry for this ?  
> additional warning : the end implies in passing that Steve could and/or would use the trigger words to abuse Bucky. This is not what I intend the interpretation to be.

One day, Steve says “Let’s unwind”- and Bucky’s eyes go dead and he falls to his knees. Steve trembles.

——————————————————————-

Like many other ideas, it came from Pierce; when he was young and not adult enough not to boast about the power he had yet.

By that time, the Winter Soldier was already obedient and completely under HYDRA’s control. Pierce witnessed him in action. Then he witnessed Bucky Barnes fighting his way back to the surface of the Soldier’s mind. It was after a job in the United States : he saw an old Captain America poster.

_He lets the men strap him to the chair, opens his mouth for the bite guard, takes the electro-shocks all in, the screaming trapped and taut in his throat. Pierce watches. When it’s done, he sends the men off and stays. He approaches the Soldier. His naked chest is heaving but his eyes are empty like a clear lake : see-through to the bottom but something could still crawl out from underneath. Pierce can see his looming reflection in them; he takes the rubber from between the assassin’s teeth, gently, drops it on the floor, carelessly. He pushes away the brainwashing device from the Soldier’s head and caresses his damp face, fingers coming to rest on the red lips. He slips one knuckle between them, then two whole fingers. The Soldier lets Pierce stretch his mouth without a word, looking up at him dully. There is something fascinating about having power over such a killing machine, Pierce thinks. There is something fascinating about how this asset is only a killing machine if it’s asked of him. He is a blank slate, a multi-function tool. He can be used for other things, Pierce is sure of that._

_He detaches the Soldier’s arms and yanks his head down by his greasy, tangled bangs. The Soldier’s upper body is bent over at an uncomfortable angle for any human being but he isn’t one and he doesn’t say a word. Pierce unzips his pants and takes his cock out with one hand, the other still in the Soldier’s hair to keep his face towards his crotch._

_“Suck me”, Pierce eventually prompts him, watching attentively the Soldier’s expression._

_The killing machine turned sex toy closes his eyes and takes Pierce in his mouth without the help of his hands. Pierce starts to get hard instantly, and releases his grip on the Soldier’s hair. He breathes deeply; this feels good, like this isn’t the first time the Soldier does this. Maybe a HYDRA scientist that didn’t share, maybe in a past life (Bucky Barnes, careful to pose as a skirt-chaser, living with Steve Rogers in Brooklyn’s gay neighborhood). Pierce does not care, the warmth and vibrations of the Soldier’s mouth – his throat, on the head of his cock – bringing him rapidly towards orgasm. He falls forward, his hand keeping him up meeting the joint where the hot flesh of the back of the Soldier meets the cold metal of his shoulder. The Soldier is getting noisy, reflexive moans wrapping around Pierce’s length, and Pierce fucks his face until he comes with a stifled groan. He pushes the Soldier back and stares at him swallowing his come, more pouty-lipped than ever, while he fastens his belt. Pierce smiles. He has many ideas._

Ideas that he set up as rules of sort. He spread them in casual conversation, “Oh what do you think would happen if… Don’t you think that…”, and soon more and more people started to want to get some time alone with the Winter Soldier when he was out of cryo; until one day, at one of the secret parties HYDRA threw back in the day when it was easy to be secret, Pierce brought the Soldier on a leash and attached him on a podium in a far corner of the wide and crowded room. People were curious but didn’t dare until the alcohol made them lose their inhibitions. It became an attraction of HYDRA parties, games were invented; what was he better at, how did you get a response from him, to which trigger word would he open his legs, which for his mouth ? Making him active would be dangerous and so he was passive, many people enjoying how the women who didn’t turn a blind eye on this affair rode him. Back at HYDRA’s headquarters, it was also done in public, Pierce throwing “Let’s unwind, gentlemen” nonchalantly and grins blooming on all faces. Only the higher ranked could have alone time with the timeless, never-aging sex doll. Pierce did age, calming down his encounters with the Soldier, but he ended up being the man who knew the most, who was the most intimate with him. He was the one who muzzled Bucky every time he acted up, the one to be gentle where others were rough : the Winter Soldier was, after all, their most precious weapon first and foremost. This role was delegated to Rumlow when he climbed the ladder. Rumlow was different.

_Rumlow likes to fuck him in a position where he doesn’t see his face. Rumlow grabs him by the neck after a job well done and hisses in his ear that he wants to reward him. This is one of those times. The Soldier follows Rumlow, as menacing as ever except for the people who know where he’s walking : a bare, tiny room with one shoddy bed and a shower. The Soldier knows HYDRA has better rooms (he has been in them), and he thinks it’s Rumlow’s way of saying that what they do has to be quick, dirty and doesn’t mean anything. But it does mean something for Rumlow : it means power. The Soldier wonders if he’s such a control-freak in his every-day life. The Soldier wonders a lot more than he’s allowed to, lately._

_As soon as he walks past the threshold, Rumlow pushes him onto the creaking bed, not managing to throw him off balance (nobody can)._

_“Take your clothes off”, he snaps. He’s in a sour mood, the Soldier analyzes. He proceeds to obey._

_Rumlow climbs behind him, stroking his hard-on – he didn’t bother to even take his pants off. He applies a pressure on his back and the Soldier responds by falling forward on his elbows (as if Rumlow has the strength to do that). He knows how Rumlow likes it and lifts his ass up in the air. He hears a bottle of lube being uncapped and waits for the fingers but it’s a voice that comes._

_“Ready yourself for me.”_

_He reaches with his right hand behind him._

_“No, your other hand.”_

_The Soldier switches silently (not many people dare to touch his super-powered metal arm) and hears more than he feels Rumlow coating his fingers with lube. He plunges one cold finger in his asshole, then quickly two –he’s done this so many times –, knowing for a fact the metal joints won’t nip at his skin. At first his fingers feel like they belong to stranger, but he works himself up to warm the metal and he muffles moans in the pillow. Pleasure is an odd thing to feel, too selfish for an asset who hasn’t got a sense of self._

_“That’s enough !”_

_Rumlow shoves his hand away and dives his cock into him to the hilt. The Soldier gasps loudly. Rumlow grinds into him for a moment, balls deep, before setting up a rough and fast pace to his thrusts, pelvis slapping the Soldier’s ass. The Soldier rocks his body according to Rumlow’s, face down until Rumlow, with the hand that’s not grabbing bruisingly at his hip, yanks his head back by his long hair to expose his throat (a lot of people do that). He can feel Rumlow bending over him, his shirt brushing against his back._

_“Lick your fingers, or I’ll make you clean this place up with your tongue.”_

_The Soldier braces himself on his right arm and brings his wet hand to his mouth. He laps at his fingers and the cold bites at his tongue._

_“Yeah, that’s it, suck on them,” Rumlow encourages darkly, “that’s all your whore mouth can do right ? You’ve got lips made to suck, don’t you ?”_

_Rumlow talks a lot during sex._

_There is something different today, though : as Rumlow’s thrusts get more frantic, he jerks the Soldier’s head back even more, angling it to the side, and as the Soldier’s metal hand comes down reflexively to grip the sheets, Rumlow kisses him hard, sloppily, strands of hair getting caught between Rumlow’s teeth as he devours the Soldier’s scarlet mouth. The Soldier doesn’t register Rumlow filling him with come as he closes his eyes tightly and images imprint themselves on his eyelids : a flash of blond hair, kind blue eyes, something human that tastes nothing like Rumlow. Bucky comes._

_Rumlow is up and out of the room so quickly, Bucky only has the time to hear the door slam. He is left to clean himself and his confused mind up. Soon he will have forgotten about this moment of clarity where he was himself again and go back to being the Winter Soldier, the multi-function tool._

_This is his reward._

———————————————————————-

Steve trembles. He doesn’t know if it’s with lust or anger. Bucky at his knees at last, mouthing at Steve’s groin through his pants : the stuff of his dreams for 80 years. But it’s not Bucky – his motions are wrong, his dead eyes are wrong, his perfect lips are wrong. Steve grabs Bucky’s hair – cut short again, thank god – and throws him off of him, too hard, shouting “Bucky!” for good measure. He lands perfectly, metal arm screeching against the floor, and Steve winces but when Bucky raises his head, his face is alive with resentful confusion. Steve allows himself a discreet relieved sigh.

“Sorry. You relapsed.”

Steve is not the only one radiating waves of guilt now.

“Did I hurt you ?”

“No, it wasn’t bad.” Poor choice of words. “You’re getting better, Buck, don’t worry. I panicked.”

Both of their smiles are off, but for different reasons.

Steve starts a list of words and phrases, but he can’t decide if it’s to remember never to say them or not.


End file.
